


L Train

by birdcages7



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Choking, Dom/sub Undertones, Ectoplasm, Ghost Sex, M/M, Nipple Play, Public Hand Jobs, Public Humiliation, Public Sex, Public Transportation, Spectrophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:34:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26285755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdcages7/pseuds/birdcages7
Summary: Steve bit his lip before an embarrassing noise could be heard over the rattle of the engine as he felt fingers circling his sensitive nipple. His brain was suddenly spinning into overdrive, trying to work out what was happening and why. It wasn't another commuter and it certainly was far too direct to just be a haphazard breeze.Mmm aren’t you a pretty one…
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 12
Kudos: 152





	L Train

Steve fiddled with his tie, waiting on the platform for the red line to take him downtown. He was nervous, naturally. Not everyone got their foot in the door at Pierce and Pierce. But he had. And  _ without _ his father's help. He had a job interview scheduled for ten. Nailing it was of the utmost importance. It meant he could stay in Chicago for one, his tiny uptown apartment with the windowsill lined with small succulent pots. It also would prove to his father that Steve wasn't a screw up. He could finally put his adolescent years and all the horrors they held to bed once and for all. Cut all ties with Hawkins and his family for good.

It was more than a job interview.

The platform gradually filled with commuters as the train pulled into the stop, already full of people. Steve had hoped getting a slightly earlier time would have meant it wouldn’t be so busy. He didn’t really want to have to ride an hour through the city crammed in like the fish in a trawler net he now was. But it would be okay. The journey didn’t matter, only the destination. He found a place to stand near a set of doors, facing outwards to watch the city go by, shifting his messenger bag to his front to keep it safe from pickpockets.

Steve knew there weren’t any, but his small town brain wouldn’t let those kinds of prejudices die. 

The doors slipped close in front of Steve’s face before the train shuddered and shunted back into life, setting off at a pace through the city. Steve sighed silently to himself and ran through potential questions he might be asked, hands moving between playing with the strap of his bag, to the end of his tie, to brushing through the hair by his ears. All nervous habits and ticks. Never able to properly keep still. He closed his eyes for a moment, mentally picturing the interview. Placing himself as smooth and confident, with all the right answers. The total opposite to how he was in reality. Pierce and Pierce didn’t need to know who he really was.

Steve’s eyes flew open when he felt something touch his chest. There was nothing in front of him but the door, locked tight for safety. Maybe he had imagined the first, but the second time around there wasn’t a chance. It felt like a hand, open and splayed, right in the middle of his chest. The pressure of it slowly moving around to cup a pectoral muscle. It was strange to say the least. It didn’t feel like it was over his shirt though. It felt like it was directly against his skin. Steve glanced around. There was a man standing behind him but facing towards the rest of the carriage, nose deep in a folded up paperback. To Steve’s left was a woman in a pencil skirt, a black handbag pinned under her arm, again facing the carriage, focusing on nothing in particular with headphones on. Steve bit his lip before an embarrassing noise could be heard over the rattle of the engine as he felt fingers circling his sensitive nipple. His brain was suddenly spinning into overdrive, trying to work out what was happening and why. It wasn't another commuter and it certainly was far too direct to just be a haphazard breeze.

_ Mmm aren’t you a pretty one… _

Steve felt his nipple being pinched as he probably resembled an owl, frantically looking around for whoever had spoken. But the voice that had floated around his head didn’t look like it came from anyone nearby. No one else was reacting if they had heard anything, or said anything even. It wasn’t a quiet voice either. Someone else would have definitely heard it. Steve hung his head and breathed hard through his nose. Now wasn’t the time for a breakdown, not on the biggest day of his life. Certainly the most important. Maybe that’s why it was happening. Stress and pressure. Steve closed his eyes again, just for a moment.

_ Nah ah pretty boy, let me see ‘em. You got real nice eyes. _

Okay. No. This wasn’t happening. Not at all. Someone was playing a joke. A hideous prank. Steve kept his eyes shut on purpose now, ignoring the voice that was clearly just in his head. Trying to just breathe calmly and regain some form of composure. It lasted all of two seconds before his now hard nipple got another playful pinch. A noise bubbled in his throat that he had to pass off as a small cough.

_ Come on princess. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours… _

Steve furrowed his brow at that. What did that mean? He opened his eyes, just a crack, and glanced up from his shoes, nearly screaming when he saw blue eyes and a wicked grin suddenly in front of him in the impossibly small space. Steve blinked in fright and it was gone. Like it had never even been there. Breathing wasn’t helping anymore. Not when he could feel something running through his hair, raking fingers combing it back all the way to the base of his neck. It made Steve shiver down to his toes. He loved having his hair messed with. Even a trip to the salon was a danger for being slightly turned on by the hair wash station.

God what was happening? Why couldn’t anyone else hear this voice? Why did Steve suddenly see crystal blue eyes? Why was he having a breakdown  _ now? _

The hand left his hair and travelled down his spine, skin prickling in its firm wake, causing Steve’s back to arch with it. Down down until one hand became two and cupped his ass almost posessively. Another noise almost made its way out of Steve’s mouth in surprise.

_ Jesus baby, look at all this now. Goddamn shame for it to be all covered up in a monkey suit... _

Was… Was that a complement? Steve shook his head, trying to get the voice to fall out of his ears, maybe shake loose the part of his brain that was shutting down and allowing any of this to happen. Certainly trying to shake away the thought that this actually felt good. That the hands now kneading his ass were actually pretty nice. Wide and definitely firm. Exactly what Steve liked. For a small moment he let himself enjoy it, maybe subconsciously pushing back, just a little, for more. The voice in his ear chuckled almost knowingly before the whole of Steve’s back just felt warm. Unnaturally warm. Stranger than if he was stood halfway under a heating vent or had his back against a radiator.

_ Let’s see what else you got huh? _

The hands worked their way around Steve’s front, around his waist and down. Behind the messenger bag that was now having to hide the beginnings of a semi, through clothes that apparently he may as well not have even been wearing. Steve definitely felt a hand wrap around his cock like it was just out in the open, circlingly tight and giving one sharp tug. A noise bubbled and popped out of Steve’s mouth before he could stop it this time. An embarrassingly high moan because okay that really did feel good. Steve felt the flush burn his cheeks, keeping his head down towards the floor in the vain hope that no one was paying attention enough to know it was him. All lost in their own pre-work worlds. The voice laughed almost cruel in Steve’s ear. Mocking in a way as the phantom hand started playing more, working Steve into complete hardness, tenting his best work pants and pressing into the leather of the bag. Steve’s grip on the strap of it was turning his knuckles white.

_ God you’ve got a nice cock princess. Real nice. You got the whole package huh? _

The whimper that left Steve’s bitten lips was shameful. He didn’t want this, didn’t ask for this, didn’t even know what was happening but, he didn’t really want it to stop. It had been a good few months since anything had touched him, aside from himself. And whatever was working him over felt so good. Practiced even. Different from Steve touching himself, tighter and rougher, but still good. He dug his feet firmer into the solid flood to stop his hips rocking into the feeling that was taking over, sweat starting to bead on his temples.

_ Mmm don’t be shy now baby. Bet a sweet lil’ thing like you just loves being all full… _

Steve swallowed thick. What could that possibly even mean in this context? In the middle of morning rush hour on the busiest train Steve had ever been on in his life, shunting from station to station through Chicago towards the biggest opportunity he’d ever gotten, being groped and touched all over by an apparent ghost that just haunted the train? Was this a dream or a nightmare? Steve couldn’t even tell anymore. Maybe that was it. Maybe he was still in bed, having a stress dream. His alarm clock would blare any minute, he’d open his eyes and this would all be over. He’d be staring over at the closed bedroom door and not down at his shiny black shoes. He wouldn’t be feeling a small damp spot growing in his briefs. He wouldn’t feel the phantom hand leave his cock and start rolling his balls around slowly like marbles in a wide palm, and he certainly wouldn’t feel another hand around his throat, forcing his head up off the floor and towards the ceiling. An advert for insurance right there in front of him.

_ Bet you love suckin’ dick, huh pretty boy? Fuck, just made to take whatever you can get I bet. What I wouldn’t give to have those lips wrapped around me. Bet you could swallow me all the way down huh? No problem at all. Bet you ain’t had a gag reflex for a long time now... _

Steve’s knees were starting to shake. This was all too much. He still wasn’t sure if it was a ghost or the voice of his subconscious ringing loud and true in his head. Because the voice wasn’t lying. Not even a little. The hand left his throat. Steve didn’t want to admit he missed it, feeling something that felt like a thumb press under the hinge of his jaw, fingers achingly close around his windpipe. He screwed his eyes shut, tight, trying to keep breathing and not pant or moan like his body wanted too, especially when the hand returned to his cock, now stroking with careless abandon.

Steve was going to come. He was going to come right in the middle of a subway train in his best suit less than an hour away from the biggest job interview of his life and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

But it wasn’t the stroking that was going to take him over the edge. No. It was the sudden feeling of something blunt and hot pressing up hard against his asshole. His eyes flew open and all he saw was his own reflection in the train doors, a flushed mess sweating out of his own skin like he’d come down with a sudden fever. Steve had enough life experience to know exactly what was going to happen. He couldn’t move from it, there was nowhere to go with everyone packed in like a sardine can. In true honestly he didn’t exactly want to move from it.

_ You want this baby? I promise it’ll feel so, so good. _

Steve could only stare at his own reflection, his own eyes dark with lust and want and god he’d gone completely insane. The hands left his cock and wrapped themselves around his hips. Instinctively Steve arched back, practically presenting. That was his answer. He did want it. He wanted it bad.

_ Fuckin’ knew it... _

The groan Steve heard in his head was sinful. So deep and sexy it was like the soundtrack of a porno playing just for him. But what he felt was even better. So impossibly good. Going from nothing to stretched out and full in just a few short moments with no pain. It was heaven. Steve couldn’t stop the small whimper from his throat even if he wanted too. The man reading the paperback coughed. Annoyed. He’d definitely heard that one. The voice laughed, rocked up and punched the air out of Steve’s lungs, those devilish hands letting go of Steve’s hips and travelling up to his chest again. This time deciding to play with both of his nipples, flicking and twisting and circling around and around. Steve wouldn’t have lips left after all this with how hard he was having to bite them.

He no longer cared what was happening. If he was having a breakdown then so be it, this all felt far too good. Like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

_ Rock for me baby. Let me know you like it... _

The voice was so sultry Steve had no option but to obey, rocking small on the balls of his feet. The voice moaned loud and deep and it just sent pure sparks along Steve’s spine. It definitely felt like something was inside him, something thick stretching him open and fucking him without a care. Steve felt it thrusting in and out, setting a brutal pace straight away that just wouldn’t be possible. God it was incredible. The small wet patch was getting bigger, threatening to leak through and stain, but Steve didn’t have the brain power to care anymore. He shifted his bag ever so slightly over the sensitive head of his cock, using three layers of different materials to his advantage, making his eyes roll back into his head. The voice just laughed and went harder. It was a miracle Steve was still on his feet. Was pretty sure whatever was fucking him was the only thing keeping him upright anymore.

_ Fuck, look at you. Such a little slut. So desperate for a dick you’ll take anythin’. Ain’t that right princess? Nod for me darlin’, you know I’m right. Say it outloud. I wanna hear it. _

Steve bit his lip harder. He couldn’t. That was just too much. That would be admitting that this was good to the world. That wasn’t about to happen. A hand wrapped itself around his throat again, head being dragged back up to the insurance advert, locking eyes with a picture of a smiling woman holding a set of keys. Steve gasped and the grip was tighter this time. The other hand was back around his cock. God he could feel fingers everywhere. Splayed over the expanse of his throat and squeezing. Trailing through his weeping slit, wrapping tight on the strokes up and down then trailing again. The dick fucking him was getting harder somehow, brushing over his prostate with every other thrust. Steve was going to explode. This would be how he died. On the L Train red line. They’d find his corpse with a gaping asshole and drained of every ounce of cum Steve could possibly ever make. No evidence to be found. No motivation for a killer.

_ Come on pretty boy. Say it. Say you love my cock. _

The hand tightened enough for Steve to choke and cough. His brain was swimming. A coil had formed hot in his gut, winding tighter and tighter. Jesus there was no way this was about to happen.

_ Say it! _

“I love you cock…” Steve barely muttered out, gasps and a moan spilling out too. The man with the book coughed again but Steve didn’t care anymore. He was lost in a world of invisible hands and see through dicks and a voice, a deep deep voice that was grunting and panting hot next to his ear. Steve kept rocking back, a deep part of him wanting to just fall to his knees and let this ghost or whatever take him mercilessly.

_ Yeah you do. Yeah you do. Fuck! _

Steve gasped at the feeling of wetness that wasn’t his own, deep inside him. That was extremely real. There was no way it couldn’t be. The ghost kept rocking into him, spilling and apparently milking himself in Steve’s body. He’d never felt so violated before. But it poured pure gasoline on the burning fire. With one more stroke of an invisible hand Steve came in his pants, whimpering like he was about to cry as the world whited out, falling forward to brace his hands on the door so he didn’t just crumble and fall apart. He panted through his nose, deep and hard and heavy. His briefs felt disgusting sticking against his spent cock. The voice laughed breathy, what was probably a nose brushing behind Steve’s ear with apparent affection.

_ Fuck, that was good. Thanks pretty boy. _

And with that everything stopped. Steve was left alone, up against the train doors. The hands and voice totally gone. The only evidence of their presence was buried deep inside him. Steve ran off the train as soon as it pulled into the next station. If it was his he didn’t care. The first lungful of air was bliss. He gulped it down like water in a desert, trying to clear his head, staring at the steel vehicle. If his pants weren’t sticking to him so uncomfortably Steve would argue with himself if anything had even happened. 

Blue eyes and that grin flashed through the glass of the doors. They winked and blew Steve a kiss before the train set off again, having to keep time through the city and its next stop.

Steve stayed on the platform for a while. A still beacon in an ocean of moving bodies, mentally trying to process what had happened but he just couldn’t. It was all far too much. Did he really just get fucked by a ghost? No, okay, one thing at a time. Pierce and Pierce. Job interview. He could ditch his briefs and try and block out this morning, he could still try. Piecing together his surroundings the office was only a few blocks away. He still had time to make it. Focus on one thing and one thing only. Don’t let them see the crazy. Prove everyone wrong.

Determined, Steve pressed on. His body felt truly fucked. His insides just felt wrong and out of place in a way that would be amazing if it wasn’t down to a spector’s wicked work. No. Don’t focus on that. Professional, not crazy. It was two blocks down that Steve came to a stop from his march, a sinking realisation setting in. Regardless of the outcome, he’d need to get the same train home. And that thought didn’t fill him with as much dread as it should have. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr page.](https://bird-in-a-cage.tumblr.com/) Come ask me stuff! Headcannons more than welcome!


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